


When Nicky Met Joe

by MechBull



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: (sort of but not really), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Brief Nicky/OMC, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Priest Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, brief Joe/OMC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28511418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: “Gay guys can neverjustbe friends with another man. Sex is always involved.”Nicky frowned. “That seems like an unfair stereotype. I’m – good friends with several gay men.”“Yeah, and I guarantee you they all want to sleep with you.”
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 155
Kudos: 473





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to watch When Harry Met Sally around New Year's every year, and every year I think "I should write an AU for [whatever pairing I'm shipping at the time]", and I never do. This year, I did.
> 
> There will be one (1) explicit scene in this, hence the tag. Most of it will be Teen to Mature.
> 
> I'm about three chapters deep, but this IS a WIP. I will update as often as I can. Additional tags will be added as necessary.

_2011_

Nicky pulled his old car over to the side of the road outside his friend John’s house and shifted into park. Crossing his arms over the steering wheel, he looked out the passenger window at John…saying a very passionate goodbye to the guy Nicky assumed was Joe. John had never introduced any of their friends to his _cool_ , older, MFA-student boyfriend, so it was a little daunting to know he would be sharing a very small space with him for an extended period of time. He was also pretty sure they had no idea he was even there, and he began to feel a bit awkward, especially when the guy pulled John closer and they basically…humped…each other right out there in public.

Nicky let his hand drop just low enough to land on the horn, and he pressed it hard. 

The two men jumped apart, but neither of them had the grace to appear at all embarrassed. Nicky reached down to push the button that popped the trunk, then he lowered the passenger-side window. John leaned down, resting his arms on the frame and sticking his head through the window to greet him. Nicky almost began speaking but was interrupted by the slam of the trunk. He glanced in the rearview mirror to see the other guy walk back around the car. 

“Have a good trip,” John said to him, grinning as he backed out of the window. “And drive safe. I don’t want anything to happen to my Joe.” He added, as he pulled the door open. 

The man in question stopped just next to John outside the door. Really closely. All Nicky could see was their – well, their lower regions as they brushed and pressed together again, apparently pretending such contact was necessary for them to switch places and let Joe get into the car. 

Nicky tapped the horn again. 

“Bye, babe,” Joe said. “I’ll call you.”

And then he was sitting down in the car, pulling the door shut and blowing a couple kisses through the still-open window. Nicky made a point of rolling it back up, wishing it would move faster the harder he pressed the button. They had a long drive ahead of them, and he would like to get started sooner rather than later.

The man turned to him, flashing him a ridiculously wide and friendly grin. “I’m Joe.”

“I gathered,” Nicky said, twisting to look over his shoulder as he pulled away from the curb. 

After a moment’s pause, the man spoke again. “And you are Nicolo?” he prompted.

Nicky shook his head. Just because this man was so rude and…overwhelming in the too-small car didn’t mean he could just forget all his manners. 

“Yes, sorry,” he said, holding out a hand for Joe to shake with his own, which Nicky couldn’t help but notice was warm and strangely rough-smooth. “You can call me Nicky. Everyone does.”

“That’s a great accent, Nicky. Very sexy.”

Nicky gave him a look that he imagined was pretty scandalized, but Joe ignored it.

“So, you’re not from around here, then?”

“I am from Genoa,” he replied, so confused he couldn’t come up with any sort of response beyond just answering the question. “Italy. I moved here for college.” 

“That’s cool. I was born in the Netherlands myself, but my family moved here the year I turned 15. School bullied the accent out of me pretty quickly, but you can still hear traces occasionally. Like when I’m tired. Or aroused.”

It was probably lucky that they were at a stoplight because Nicky turned to stare at him again, feeling his cheeks flush red. What in the name of God…? 

A horn snapped him to attention, and Nicky faced forward, realizing the light had turned green. He accelerated, breathing out slowly.

“I figure we can make it in under 14 hours, with stops, if we don’t run into any real traffic or construction,” he said, just choosing to ignore the things Joe had been saying. “We can switch drivers every three or four hours. Or, if you prefer, we can divide it up by mileage. There’s a map in the pocket behind the seat, which I’ve marked up with the route. Or – ”

“Whatever you want,” Joe interrupted, slipping a pair of sunglasses on.

Nicky was kind of thankful for them, actually, because he couldn’t see the expression in his eyes anymore. Instead, he just focused on his driving. There was blessed silence for a while. 

“So, why are you moving to New York?” Joe asked, as soon as Nicky merged onto the interstate. 

Nicky glanced at him, not quite sure whether he wanted to share his life story with him, and not really knowing how to simply answer that _without_ sharing his life story. 

“Come on,” Joe said when Nicky didn’t say anything. “We have a long drive ahead of us. Are we just not going to talk?”

Nicky sighed. “My sister and her husband just moved there. They have a new baby. I figured it would be nice to be near some family again and maybe help her out when I can.”

“Niece or nephew?”

“Nephew.”

“What’s his name?”

“Pietro.”

“So, he’ll be Peter soon enough.”

“I guess,” Nicky agreed. 

“You guess, _Nicolo_?” 

Nicky tilted his head to allow Joe’s point. “Fair enough. He will be Peter soon.”

Joe hummed. “The accent wasn’t the only thing I dropped as soon as possible in the fall of 2001.”

Nicky did a double take as he understood what Joe was saying. “What’s your name then?”

“Yusuf.”

“Would you prefer I called you that?”

“Would you prefer I called you Nicolo?”

He thought about it seriously and then just shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“I’m fine with Joe.” 

Joe didn’t say anything else, choosing instead to dig inside his backpack and pull out a water bottle. Nicky thought briefly about enforcing his no food or drink in the car rule, but then he decided to pick his battles. It would be a long trip, after all. And besides, it seemed rather petty after the unexpectedly sincere conversation so early into their acquaintance. The whole topic made Nicky feel a little uncomfortable, if he were honest. But he also felt like he started to understand Joe a bit more, like they had something in common. And maybe the boisterous attitude, the…the rather forward comments…were all part of an attempt to seem – 

“So, are you going to live with them?”

“Who? Oh! My sister? No. They are in Manhattan. I will be in Yonkers.”

“What the hell is in Yonkers?” Joe scoffed, taking a sip of his water.

“St. Joseph’s Seminary,” Nicky answered quickly, like pulling a band-aid off. Few people outside his major reacted well to hearing he was planning on becoming a priest, after all. 

In Joe’s case, his reaction was to spit water all over the dashboard. Nicky looked at it with an inner sigh, wishing that he had forced Joe to put it away. Joe reached out, wiping at the water with his palm and doing nothing more than smearing it across the surface. Nicky forced himself to focus on the road again so he didn’t have to see it.

“You’re going to be a priest?” Joe asked. 

“Yes.”

“ _Why?_ ”

Nicky didn’t feel the need to explain himself again, so he turned the subject to Joe instead. “Why are _you_ going to New York?”

“I’m gay and an artist. Where else would I move to starve while I create?”

Nicky had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. He was beginning to realize this would probably be his default state around Joe for the next several hours. 

“If you’re going to kick me out of the car,” Joe said, after a few moments of silence, “could you at least do so at the next exit rather than just out here on the highway?”

Nicky shook his head quickly. “What? Why would I kick you out of the car?”

“Because I’m a gay Muslim.”

Oh. That. 

“I had figured that out, you know. Besides, the fact that your career _plan_ is to starve is the only thing I find objectionable about you.”

Joe laughed, sounding equal parts surprised and relieved. Then, as if he completely forgot his recent concern, he turned the charm back on full blast. “Only thing, huh? So, you like everything else about me, then?”

Nicky rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t joke about things like that.”

“Will I get struck down by a lightning bolt?”

“You’re with my friend?” Nicky reminded him as if he were a particularly dense child. 

“John?” He tilted his head back and laughed so loudly, it felt like it bounced off the walls of the car and ricocheted back to hit Nicky smack in the torso. “We’re friends, but it’s not like that.”

“Really? You seemed _very_ friendly.”

Joe shrugged. “We’re friends who sleep together. Gay guys can never _just_ be friends with another man. Sex is always involved.”

Nicky frowned. “That seems like an unfair stereotype. I’m – good friends with several gay men.”

“Yeah, and I guarantee you they all want to sleep with you.”

Nicky was too flustered to answer again. And he knew his blush was back too. 

“You should probably get some rest while you can,” he eventually said.

**

“Nicky, wake up.”

It was either the voice or the touch to his shoulder that got through to him, but whatever it was, Nicky jolted awake with some surprise. He quickly lifted a hand to his mouth to check for drool. Shadows stretched across the parking lot of the small diner Joe had pulled into. Some classical music was playing softly on the car radio. 

“What time is it?”

“Quarter to 7,” Joe replied. “We’re well within your _itinerary_.”

Nicky nodded, then yawned. He opened the door and climbed out, closing his door just hard enough for the latch to hold. Walking ahead and stretching his arms above his head, he cringed when he heard the _slam_ of Joe closing the driver’s side door. Nicky closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. 

He wondered if he should use the bathroom or order a coffee first. The need for both was equally strong. But the bathroom was just next to the entrance, so that solved his dilemma. He looked at Joe and tilted his head towards it. Joe nodded in understanding.

“I’ll grab us a table and then go myself when you’re done. Want a coffee?”

“Yeah. Black. Thanks.”

Neither one said much of anything else until they were halfway through their burger platters. And then Joe apparently realized he hadn’t come on to Nicky for hours and decided to ‘remedy’ that.

“We could get a room, if you’re too tired to drive.”

Nicky just shot him a slightly annoyed glare. Joe grinned, leaning closer.

“You’re not a priest yet.”

“Joe.”

“Don’t you want to make sure? Before you swear it off forever?”

“I think I’ll be able to live without it just fine.”

“Which definitely tells me you’re still a virgin.”

Nicky didn't dignify that with a response beyond “Eat your food so we can go.”

**

“Are you sure here is OK?” Nicky asked, looking around skeptically.

“Yeah,” Joe confirmed. “The Airbnb’s a couple blocks that way, but I want to wander a bit.”

“I still can’t quite believe you moved here without an actual place to live.”

“What part of the starving bohemian artist in New York City concept do you not get?”

Nicky shook his head. “Well…you know any mosque or church should be able to help you find a – a shelter, if nothing else?”

“What part of non-practicing Muslim do you not get?”

Nicky sighed. “OK, never mind. Good luck, Joe.”

“You too.” Joe hesitated. “We could make plans for next week, if you want. You can tell me all about Little Peter and your new life as a monk.”

“Not gonna be a monk,” Nicky repeated for what felt like the tenth time. Then, he shook his head, not letting Joe distract him. “And I don’t think it would be a particularly good idea for us to stay in touch.”

Joe winked at him. “Afraid of the temptation?”

“Goodbye, Joe. Have a nice life. At least until you starve to death.”

Joe sighed, opened the passenger door, and climbed out. He leaned back inside. “Too bad. You were the only person I knew in New York.”

Nicky waved as he closed the door, then once Joe had his stuff and closed the trunk, he drove away as quickly as he safely could. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the temptation, or whatever Joe had ridiculously suggested, but he did wonder if it had been the right decision to just dismiss the overture of friendship. It wasn’t like he knew all that many people in New York, either. 

But, he figured, he was bound to meet other people soon enough. Other people who wouldn’t make him feel quite so…wrong-footed and uncertain about everything, who wouldn’t get so much joy out of inappropriately and shamelessly flirting with him. He didn’t need someone like Yusuf al-Kaysani in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is indeed a St. Joseph's Seminary in Yonkers, per Google. That is all I can tell you about it. For that matter, the only part of Chicago I really know (UNFORTUNATELY) is O'Hare, and I've been to NYC exactly one time. So, don't expect too many accurate location-specific details. But, I mean, that's not really why you're here, is it?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thank God he didn’t recognize me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter introduces Joe/Keane but you should obviously not think of him as the same character. He is also an AU version. (That doesn't make him a good person, though.)
> 
> I learned from comments on chapter 1 that some of you have not seen WHMS (why are you reading this when you could be fixing that?), so if you are confused by the beginning of this chapter: there are "interludes" where different couples who are not actually characters in the movie describe how they met. I tried to capture that effect here. 
> 
> Minor references to homophobia and racism/bigotry. Also discussion of a parent's imminent death.

_I was not at the best time of my life. I had been dishonorably discharged and had just been paroled after doing two years for forgery, and I had…a bit of a drinking problem._

_A bit._

_I met her, and we just clicked. She turned my whole life around. We have three great boys. I don’t know what I’d ever do without them._

** 

_2016_

Joe moaned softly when Keane lifted a hand to cup his jaw while they kissed. He opened his mouth, letting his boyfriend – his _boyfriend_ – slip his tongue inside. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it was time to stop “saying goodbye” and actually say goodbye, but then he reminded himself that flights were never on time anyway.

Even still, he started to feel like someone was staring at him, and not in the typical way people stared at him when he dared to be gay in public. His eyes flicked open briefly, making contact with an unsettling but almost familiar pair of green-blue-gray eyes far too close to his own face. He pulled away, tapping Keane on his chest and nodding at the stranger.

The man shook his head, his demeanor changing almost immediately. “Sorry. Keane, I thought it was you.”

Joe could tell from Keane’s reaction that he couldn’t quite place the guy, but the accent had shocked Joe into recognition. And now that he recalled that strangely intense drive years ago, the distinctive features and _unfairly_ inaccessible body of the man were more than familiar. In a way, though, he was grateful that…Nate? Noah? Nicky!...didn’t seem to remember him. Joe knew he had been rather…forward…back then. 

OK, he had come on to him like crazy. But who could blame him? Not only was Nicky hot like burning, but he was also quite critical and dismissive, which – as he had learned through several unfortunate past relationships – was like fucking catnip to Joe and admittedly what had first attracted him to Keane as well, and also Nicky was about to become a _priest_ and the thought of seducing someone so unattainable was…damn. 

He blinked and shook his head, bringing himself back to the present in time to realize that Keane had remembered or been subtly reminded how he knew Nicky and now they were both turning to Joe. 

“This is Joe, my boyfriend,” Keane said. Joe smiled back, unable to ignore the flare of happiness that went through him every time one of them used the word since they started to a few days ago. He shook Nicky’s hand, quickly letting it go, feeling a little nervous about how Nicky turned his attention back onto him and his eyes narrowed in slight confusion. “Joe, this is Nicky. I used to live next door to his sister’s family.”

After another moment or two of awkward pleasantries, Nicky excused himself to catch his plane. He gave Joe one more curious look as he nodded goodbye, and Joe held his breath. When he was out of earshot, Joe exhaled in relief.

“Thank God he didn’t recognize me.”

Keane looked at him curiously, and just a touch jealously, and Joe offered him a coy smile.

“You know him?”

He shook his head. “We drove from Chicago to New York five years ago. Longest damn ride of my life.”

“What happened?”

“Huh?”

“Did you two…” Keane raised his eyebrows and tilted his head forward. His meaning was more than clear.

“No, of course not.” Joe decided to play it off as his choice that they didn’t. He preferred to seem like the committed sort rather than the, well, slutty sort. “I was still with…shit.” He shook his head, laughing at himself. “Don’t get involved with me, Keane. I’m 30 years old and I can’t remember the name of the guy I was involved with a few years ago.”

Keane grinned at him. “I think I’ll let it slide,” he teased, stepping closer to give him another kiss. Before it could get any deeper, an announcement came over the loudspeaker reminding Joe he was still in the airport. He twisted to look at the security line behind him. It wasn’t getting any shorter. 

“I gotta go,” he said.

Keane whined softly in protest. Joe smiled, darting forward to peck him one last time. Then, he bent and picked up the bag between their feet, hooking it over his shoulder. He backed away, hanging onto Keane’s hand as they separated.

“I’ll see you in a week,” he said.

“I miss you already, sweetheart,” Keane replied. 

Good grief, he didn’t even cringe at the pet name. He had it bad. He felt like he floated all the way through security. Even the fact that he was “randomly” selected for extra screening, like usual, didn’t bother him. He was still kind of giddy even by the time he was in his seat. He smiled out the window, watching the staff unload suitcases off the cart. When he heard quiet, polite greetings from the woman next to him, either to an attendant or to the person in the aisle seat, he was almost too distracted to notice. But then he came back to himself, remembering his plan to ask to switch. He was really too big to comfortably sit in an inner seat, but he had booked too late to reserve one on the aisle. He wasn’t about to switch with the poor woman in the middle, obviously, but maybe the person in the aisle would – 

He turned, trying to find the right words to convince – 

“Hi,” he said, the greeting almost punched out of him when he realized that it was Nicky staring back at him again. 

“Hello,” he replied. And then… “University of Chicago, right?”

Damn. 

“Yes,” he said. “Joe.” He closed his eyes, feeling somewhat embarrassed by that. Keane had just introduced them, so it wasn’t like he needed to remind Nicky of his name.

“Right. How are you?”

Joe hesitated, glancing at the woman between them almost as if she could somehow block and protect him from this conversation. She was leaning back out of their way, looking back and forth between them, and Joe could see in her eyes the very moment she realized what this meant for her. She jumped on her chance. Joe couldn’t blame her, really.

“You two know each other?” she asked, gesturing between them. She turned to Nicky and Joe inwardly sighed. “Do you want to switch? I don’t mind the aisle seat.”

No one sane minded the aisle seat, especially on a transatlantic flight. Fuck.

His only consolation was the brief moment of regret and perhaps fear on Nicky’s face as he looked down at his long legs in those jeans that were really too tight for a priest. Then, he concealed his reaction and shrugged the stupidly broad shoulders he would have to squeeze into the middle. 

“Sure, thank you.”

Joe sighed, watching in a resigned sort of way as the two of them got up and did the airplane-aisle-dance around each other. Eventually, Nicky was sitting again, and Joe tried not to focus too much on his hands or general…waist…area as he buckled his seat belt. 

“So, how are you?” he asked again, and Joe lifted his gaze immediately. 

“Fine, fine.”

“Haven’t starved yet, I see.”

Joe barked a laugh as the memory came back to him. He wondered if that was also a subtle comment on his body, which had a lot more muscle than it did five years ago when he thought artist was synonymous with waifish twink and had tried his damnedest to make his body fit that, with only moderate success. 

He wondered if he just _hoped_ that’s what Nicky had been commenting on.

Keane. Keane. Keane. Joe was falling in love with him. He didn’t need to be entertaining these thoughts. 

“No,” Joe confirmed. “Turns out starving isn’t much fun and also I’m not really that great of an artist, so I sold out. I work for the Bronx Museum of the Arts.”

“That’s – that’s great,” Nicky said, making a slightly awkward face considering the mixed details of Joe’s info dump. “And you’re with Keane?”

“Yes,” Joe said, smiling. “A little over three weeks now.”

“That’s great,” Nicky repeated. “Are you going to Italy for work then?”

“Yes, we’re bringing in a traveling exhibit next year, so I’m going to iron out some details.”

“That’s great.”

Joe wondered if that was the only phrase he knew. “What about you?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you going to Italy? Visiting family? Tea with the Pope?”

“No. Well, yes, to the family. My – my father is ill. He doesn’t have much time left.”

Well, didn’t Joe feel like a complete and utter ass now. “Sorry to hear that.”

Nicky shrugged, breaking eye contact to look forward for a moment. “It’s not sudden or unexpected. My sister is already out there.”

“Still, it…” He didn’t know how to finish that beyond _sucks_ , which seemed pretty weak.

Nicky nodded in agreement, anyway. “I had hoped he would live long enough to see me ordained but – ” Nicky made a sort of clicking sound out of the corner of his mouth to conclude his sentence.

It was probably not the part he was supposed to focus on, but all Joe could think to ask was, “You mean, you’re not a priest yet?” 

“No, it usually takes about five years, so it will be sometime later this year.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize it took that long.”

“Well…they don’t want anyone to rush into it.”

“I suppose not.” Joe was absolutely _not_ thinking about the fact that he could still, uh, get in just under the wire. Or that they were only several rows away from the bathroom. “Don’t want anyone to regret their sacrifices.”

What the hell was wrong with him? 

Nicky rolled his eyes just slightly, enough to let him know that he knew exactly what Joe was thinking. “This might be hard to believe, Joe, but I don’t consider not slee – ah, anything I haven’t done to be a sacrifice.”

Joe laughed, accepting the jab with grace, knowing he probably deserved it and more. 

Nicky changed the subject again then, asking him about his job at the museum and the exhibit he was going to negotiate. They talked about the differences between New York and Chicago, and what they missed about their old home. They pointedly talked about how people who leaned their seats back on planes were selfish assholes when the guy in front of Nicky did so without warning, slamming the seat into his knees and nearly upsetting the paper cup of coffee off the tray. Nicky had sworn under his breath in Italian when it happened, and Joe had gotten half-hard as a result. They eventually ran out of things to talk about, at least in a public setting surrounded by strangers, but even then, the flight seemed to pass quickly and enjoyably. Perhaps Joe’s favorite part of the whole thing was when Nicky fell asleep, his thigh pressed all along Joe’s, his head tilted towards him so he could easily see the way his mouth hung open. He reached out to pull the book from Nicky’s loose grasp before he dropped it, and he placed it on the tray, turning it slightly to read the title.

He nearly laughed out loud when he saw it was a trashy murder mystery. Not at all what he’d been expecting. 

With one final chuckle, Joe crossed his arms and shifted down in his own chair. He closed his eyes, hoping he’d be able to nap but knowing he never could fall asleep on planes. Nonetheless, it was relaxing enough to just tilt his head in Nicky’s direction and feel Nicky’s breath against his neck and collar when he exhaled. 

They were both incredibly groggy when they finally arrived in Italy and didn’t say much as they disembarked and made it through Customs. When they made it out to the arrivals hall, Joe turned to look at Nicky, feeling awkward. 

“Uh, did you want to share a cab or – is your family - ?”

“Oh, thanks, but I’m renting a car. My parents are about an hour and a half from here still.”

“You’re going to drive that now?” Joe asked, more than a little concerned considering how exhausted Nicky looked.

He shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Let me buy you a cup of coffee first.”

Nicky smiled at him, perhaps the most genuine smile he had ever given Joe. He reached out and squeezed his arm gently. 

“Joe, it’s fine. Thank you. It was nice seeing you again.”

It was sincere, but rather final at the same time, so Joe knew better than to suggest that Nicky should look him up when they both get back to New York.

Besides, there was Keane. 

“Sorry about your dad,” he said. “I hope it…goes…well, I guess. I don’t know what you’re supposed to say about these things.”

Nicky smiled again. “It’s the thought that counts,” he confirmed. 

He leaned forward, shocking Joe into silence and immobility with two quick kisses, one to each cheek. Before he could reboot himself back into consciousness, Nicky was gone, heading for the car rental desk. 

Joe exhaled sharply, blinked a couple times, and shook his head. Then, he turned around almost entirely in a circle, getting his bearings, before walking in the direction of ground transportation. He needed a taxi, and he needed his hotel room, and if he made good use of the shower or the bed, then no one needed to know.

Especially not Keane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Bronx Museum of the Arts exists, and based on its web site, it looks like a place Joe would like. It does not, however, look like they would bring in traveling exhibits from Italy. *shrug* Again, do not expect realistic details. :)
> 
> Also, heh. As those of you have seen the movie might be thinking, it does do a MUCH better job of the whole enemies (and eventual friends) part than I do. I just can't figure out how to realistically portray these two as anything BUT hot for each other, even if one or both is in denial about it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think we’re going to have to actually become friends now.”

_Our first date was prom. My dad even made a video call so he and the other guys in his unit could threaten him about my curfew._

_I was nervous enough as it was._

_And then my dad was killed only a couple weeks after that. Most guys probably would not be able to deal with something like that so early in a relationship, especially at our age._

_There was no question about it._

_He wrote me a letter every day I was gone for basic._

**

_2021_

“What about Lykon?”

“You fixed me up with him six years ago,” Joe reminded Andy. 

“I did?”

“Yes. We didn’t click.”

“OK. Well, what about – ”

“Please stop. I told you. I am not ready to start dating again yet.”

“It’s been three months,” Andy said, putting down the book she was looking at and walking around to the other side of the new releases table. “You wait much longer and Keane will have officially won the break-up.”

“I think the fact that he dumped me for a multimillionaire wunderkind he was fucking behind my back for a year suggests he did, indeed, win.”

“That sounds awfully bitter for someone who claims to be over him.”

Joe sighed. He decided against the book he was looking at and went to join Andy. “I am. It wasn’t like our relationship was perfect apart from that. It probably would have ended soon for some reason or another. I’m still taking a break.”

Andy rolled her eyes. Joe felt annoyed.

“Even if I were to meet the perfect guy right now, he would end up being nothing more than a – a rebound. It’d be better to wait until I am in the right headspace.”

“OK, OK,” Andy said. She didn’t sound like she was agreeing with him so much as she was distracted by something across the room. Joe was just about to look up to follow her line of sight when she quickly instructed, “Don’t look. You don’t want to seem obvious.”

Joe froze. He wasn’t entirely sure what she was up to, but he knew her well enough to know that tone. That was her mischief tone. 

“There’s a guy staring at you from the mystery section,” she muttered out of the corner of her mouth. “Don’t – _don’t_ look straight there, you dumbass. Let your gaze wander through the store and just happen to land on him in a few – ”

Joe ignored her and looked directly towards the mystery section. He felt a weird flip in his stomach.

“I know him.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. And before you start planning our wedding, he’s a priest.”

Andy forgot her own instructions to play it cool and snapped her head up to examine Nicky.

“Really? A _priest_ priest?”

Her tone had switched to…intrigued. Joe sighed.

“Boss.”

“You _know_ how much I like corrupting good little boys and girls.”

“You’re incorrigible. And he’s incorruptible.”

“He’s also coming over here, but don’t think that means you’ll get out of explaining that comment to me later.”

Joe fumbled the book in his hands, almost dropping it as he looked up to see Nicky approaching. He clearly recognized him this time, despite the thick beard and curls Joe was sporting these days. Nicky himself still had the same chopped-with-a-dull-pair-of-scissors haircut and Dad-on-a-Saturday fashion sense that Joe remembered from their previous meetings. 

It _really_ worked for him. 

“Joe? Hi.”

He nodded in greeting. “Nicky, hi. How are you?”

“Good, good. I – ” He glanced to Joe’s right, where he knew Andy was standing. Damn, what kind of face was she making at Nicky, he wondered.

“This is Andy,” he said quickly, turning so he could shoot her a warning look while pretending to include her. But she was actually already walking away, giving them an obnoxious little wave, so he faced Nicky again, a little embarrassed by her obviously _giving them privacy_. “That was Andy.”

Nicky nodded, dropping eye contact briefly to play with the paperback in his hand. It had creepy-looking font and a generic murder pun as a title, and Joe hid his smile. 

“Your friend?”

“Yes, and my boss.”

Nicky looked at him again. “Are you still at…the Whitney?”

“The Bronx. Yes, I am.”

He seemed to blush a bit at his mistake. “Right, sorry.”

Joe waved away the apology. 

“And – and how’s, um, Keane?” Nicky continued, rushing towards the end of the question.

“He’s fine. I assume.” Joe knew his answer was a bit clipped, and this time Nicky definitely blushed, apparently realizing quite quickly that he put his foot in his mouth with that one. “We broke up three months ago,” he added, wanting to just confirm it so they could move on.

“Sorry,” Nicky said again. “I’ll just stop asking questions now.”

Joe laughed. “I’m sure you’re used to people sharing all their emotional trauma with you. I’m just sorry to do it on your day off, Nicky. Or – should I call you Father now?” He grinned. “ _Please_ tell me you go by Father Nicolo.”

Nicky stared at him, his mouth opening and closing several times before he finally managed to speak. “Yes to the emotional trauma. No to the – ” he said, his voice sounding very, very weird. “I never – I’m not – I got a Master’s in Social Work after I left the seminary. I work with at-risk youth.” 

Joe stared at him.

“Nicky is fine,” Nicky added, vaguely reminding Joe of the time they had talked about nicknames so many years ago now. 

“Oh.”

Neither one seemed to know what to say next. Joe was surprised enough when Nicky ended up being the first to speak, but you could really have knocked him over with a feather when he didn’t just give an excuse to leave Joe until their next random meeting in five more years. 

“Do you want to grab a coffee? There’s a good place around the corner.”

“Yes,” Joe blurted. It was his turn to blush. He cleared his throat and swallowed. “Yeah, sounds good,” he added, calmer. 

Nicky gave him a very tiny smile. He took a step closer to Joe – well, Joe supposed, really towards the door to the store – and then remembered the book in his hand. He looked at it, then over his shoulder at the long line at the checkout counter, then back at Joe. He shrugged and put the book on the table on top of the new releases. Joe glanced at it, not quite sure (but also, if he were being honest, very, very sure) why the whole situation was making his heart beat double time. And then he twisted slightly so Nicky could walk past him and lead him to the door.

**

“I still believe in God,” Nicky explained, after taking the last sip of coffee from his paper cup.

He stepped off the sidewalk to toss it in a trash can. Joe actually found himself shifting direction as well to stay close to his side. He nearly tripped getting back onto the main path when Nicky did. He looked around the park, forcing himself to people-watch so he didn’t stare at Nicky too much. 

“My faith is still there,” he continued. “It’s just the church as an institution, as a…man-made and man-run thing, I…I don’t know about it anymore. I feel like I can do more actual good where I am now, more of the kind of work that Christ actually – ” he broke off, shrugging. 

“I can understand that,” Joe responded. “My own feelings about religion are – very complicated, but there’s still a part of me that believes. Or maybe _wants_ to believe.”

Nicky looked over at him with a small smile and nod. There was some other emotion behind his eyes, though, and his next statement only confirmed that.

“And if I’m being honest, after my father died, I realized maybe a small part of me stuck with it longer than I even wanted to, so I never had to explain to him why I couldn’t find a nice girl to marry and make babies with. And another part of me regrets never giving him the chance to say that it didn’t matter.”

Joe didn’t breathe for a moment. He looked forward but didn’t see much. Finally, he managed a “So you are gay?”

Nicky barked a laugh, amused but also seemingly grateful that Joe didn’t push at the more uncomfortably personal elements of that explanation. 

“You hit on me all those times without knowing?”

Joe grinned, feeling a bit more in control of his own reactions again. “Well,” he teased, “you were a hot guy who insulted me and refused to sleep with me. I would have hit on you regardless.” He chuckled self-deprecatingly. “I’m mature enough not to like those kinds of things now.”

Nicky’s response was far too sincere, his eyebrows drawn together. “Did I insult you?”

“Well…” Joe tilted his head to the side, trying to remember objectively. “You definitely made it clear you didn’t like me.”

“I liked you!” Nicky disagreed, and Joe graciously let him lie. “I just thought you were a bit…”

“Too gay?”

He shook his head sharply, giving Joe a scolding look. “Too interested in hooking up when you were supposedly dating someone else.”

“Ah,” Joe acknowledged. He looked forward again. “For what it’s worth, I’m mature enough not to like _those_ kinds of things now, too.”

“Glad to hear that.”

Joe stayed silent, wondering if that was some kind of hint or signal or – he looked around and realized they had made a loop and were back at the entrance to the park they had walked through close to an hour ago. He supposed _that_ was a sign he should let Nicky go and not monopolize his entire day. But damn it, he didn’t want to just leave this time. And yet, he hadn’t lied to Andy; he didn’t know if he was ready for something new, something…real. But maybe they could try something in between. 

He turned to Nicky, smiling even as he stepped back a little bit. He tried to force everything about his body language to say _friendly see-you-later_ rather than _formal goodbye_ and definitely not _wanna go back to my place and screw each other’s brains out?_

“I think we’re going to have to actually become friends now,” he said. “Third time’s the charm.”

Nicky gave him a hesitant look that Joe didn’t want to read too much into. He also didn’t want to read too much into it when Nicky replied, “I thought you said that gay guys couldn’t be friends.”

“That does not sound like something I would say,” Joe joked, undercutting it with a wink.

After a long pause, Nicky’s mouth stretched into something that seemed almost like a grimace or wince more than a smile. “Next coffee’s on you, then. Pal.”

“Sounds good. Buddy.”

**

Two of the regulars at the youth center waved at Nicky as he walked into the building. Nicky called out a greeting, not even bothering to scold them for the shoes they had on the table as they played video games. He had admittedly been in a fantastic mood all week, and they were taking advantage of it. A few of them had actually convinced him to treat them to pizza the other afternoon.

“There’s a _fucking gorgeous_ man in your office,” Trent called after him. 

Nicky waved over his shoulder in acknowledgment, not bothering to turn around. He didn’t need them to see his sudden nerves.

“Hey,” he greeted Joe as he walked inside his office. 

Joe was in the guest chair across from his desk, but he was leaning forward and tilting one of the picture frames so he could see it. He fumbled it when Nicky entered, nearly knocking it over before setting it back in place. 

“Your nephew?”

“Yeah, that’s Petey.”

“Adorable. Good genes.”

Nicky pressed his lips together to stop his smile, but couldn’t quite stop the quick lift of his eyebrows in response. 

“Ready for lunch?” 

“Yes,” Joe agreed, standing. But then almost immediately he reached out to pick up a plastic bag Nicky hadn’t seen earlier. “Uh, this is for you.”

Nicky furrowed his brow, reaching out to take it. He opened it quickly, trying not to make any sort of unnecessary production out of it. He laughed when he saw the book he had been planning on buying the last time they saw each other. 

“Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

“No problem. Figured it was my fault you didn’t get it.”

“Well, I, um, had no regrets but still…thanks.”

The subject of the book came up again when they were sitting at the tiny corner table of one of Nicky’s favorite delis. They were eating sandwiches, and the only thing Nicky could focus on was the spot of mayonnaise in Joe’s beard just next to the corner of his mouth. He thought about pointing it out, so Joe could use his napkin or something, but he also feared that he might just stick his tongue out to lick it up…or wipe it off with a finger that he then sucked clean…or – 

“Why do you like them?”

“Huh?” Nicky breathed out. 

“Murder mysteries.”

Nicky shook his head, getting rid of his distraction so he could rightfully defend himself. “Lots of people like them.”

“No, I know,” Joe replied, holding up a calming hand as he chuckled slightly. “I just expected you to be, like, a non-fiction person. Philosophy and social sciences and whatnot.”

Nicky wrinkled his nose. “I had enough of that in seminary and grad school, thanks. I’m not ‘on duty’ all the time, you know.” 

“Fair enough,” Joe allowed. 

Later, when Joe was walking Nicky back to work, Nicky brought it up again. “I like trying to solve it before the fictional detectives do. The worst ones lay absolutely no groundwork for the big reveal. But others…it’s a game, but it’s comforting too. The predictable formulas. Bad guys get caught, and the world’s as it should be.”

Joe nodded in understanding. “I feel that way about country music.”

Nicky’s mouth twitched with the urge to mock. “Country music?”

“Yes, I know, I know. But you can listen to a song you’ve literally never heard before, and usually by the refrain, you can predict the words and more or less know the whole theme of the song.”

“Well, your choices are basically something about a truck or a girl, so.”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just surprised; I remember you listening to classical and jazz and NPR during the road trip.”

“Well, yeah, I wanted to seem sexy and sophisticated.” Joe winked at him, outrageously enough to be insincere and thus…safe enough for Nicky to just laugh off. He continued, “But you know what I mean? It’s brainless entertainment, background noise, and the lyrics certainly aren’t poetry, but, yeah, like you said, comforting.”

Nicky stopped just outside his building, turning to face Joe. He supposed he had dragged lunch out long enough, and it was time to get back to work again. He thanked Joe, but then he lingered just a moment. He thought about the weird path they had taken to get to this budding friendship. 

“Sometimes, something unpredictable is good,” he observed, wondering if Joe would catch his meaning. 

Judging by his grin, Joe did. 

A bit later, as Nicky tossed a couple bags of chips at the kids and challenged the winner to the next video game round, he wondered whether, on the other hand, whatever was happening with Joe was actually entirely predictable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I emphatically disagree with the criticism by some fans of Nicky's looks/style. It perfectly fits with his character and IMO is actually one of his better looks. So there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'll have what he's having._

_I think the key to a happy marriage is remembering people and circumstances change and that doesn't have to be a bad thing. Sometimes that means learning and growing and becoming the person you were meant to be. Unfortunately, some changes are…not so good._

_I was a workaholic. Never had any time for anything else, until I met her. Now I’ve quit my job just to have as much time with her as possible._

_We can’t go on trips anymore, or morning runs, or talk for hours into the night, or most of the things we used to do. But we still love each other, and strangely, these are some of the happiest, most loving days of our life together._

**

“Here you go.”

Nicky didn’t respond at first. He heard Joe, of course, but he was not quite focusing on him. It was his first time in Joe’s apartment, and he was…he wouldn’t say snooping. Obviously, Joe knew he was looking around. But he _was_ trying to get a better feel for the man from his material possessions. At the moment, he was looking at a painting hanging above the couch. It was very interesting. He could tell it was a person – it wasn’t abstract or anything, but it wasn’t a realistic portrait either. 

“Nicky?”

He twisted, finally acknowledging Joe. “Sorry,” he said, taking the offered glass of wine. He took a sip before speaking again. “This painting – I like it.”

Joe stood next to him, looking up at it as well. “Thanks,” he said. 

“I mean, I don’t know much about art, but I like it. Who painted it?”

Joe laughed, prompting Nicky to look at him. 

“I did.”

Nicky immediately turned to examine the painting again. “You did?”

“Yes.”

“Joe, _you_ painted this?”

“Yes,” he repeated, laughing louder.

“But you said once that you were not actually a very good artist. This is – Joe, this is – why did you stop?”

Joe shrugged, turning away from the painting and sitting on the couch instead. Nicky joined him, waiting for him to answer. After a moment or two, Joe leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Too many rejections,” he said. “Too many criticisms, too much starving, too many people” – Joe didn’t need to say Keane’s name for Nicky to hear it – “telling me to grow up. And I just didn’t want to keep throwing myself at something I didn’t really know if I even wanted anymore and letting it hurt me again and again.”

“I understand,” Nicky said softly.

Joe looked at him, gave him a small smile. “I know you do.” After a pause, he continued, “You know how you decided to try going to services at that LGBT-friendly church?”

“Yeah?” He went for the first time the previous week, and while he wasn’t sure if it would become a regular thing, it had felt…nice. The rituals, the community. He nodded at Joe to continue, not sure of the connection he was trying to make. 

“Well…I bought some drawing pencils the other day. I haven’t opened them yet but…I bought them. I feel like…it might be good to try again. To remember the parts of it that I loved, that made me feel like me, and not only the parts that – destroyed me.”

Nicky smiled widely at him. “I think that’s great. I think you should get back into it, if you want to.”

“Yeah,” Joe agreed, nodding and smiling. 

He leaned a bit closer to Nicky, almost seeming as if – but no, Nicky was probably imagining it. Joe had said he wanted to be friends, and as much as he had teased over the years, he had never actually really tried for more, always respecting Nicky’s no. Nicky would accept the friendship Joe offered, even if he felt like – almost five years after he opened himself up to the opportunity – he was ready to start living the life he wanted. 

Joe cleared his throat and put space between them again. “Besides, I’m turning 40 soon and the men in my family do _not_ age well. If I’m not rich and famous, I don’t know how I’m going to get any 20-something twinks to sleep with me.”

Nicky put his palm over his face, pretending to be annoyed so he could hide his embarrassed and not at all jealous laugh. Guess that proved the point that their chance had passed them by. “Five years,” he muttered into his hand. “You’re turning 40 in _five_ years.”

“Yeah, but it’s there! Getting closer!”

**

Joe tried very hard not to laugh at Nicky’s futile attempts to wrangle the five or six teenagers he had optimistically deemed capable of behaving themselves in a museum. Joe had ample experience with screaming babies and toddlers, unruly children, and obnoxious teenagers, but Nicky was clearly mortified by every single disapproving look one of the kids got from snooty, old patrons.

He walked up next to Nicky, pausing a moment before lifting his hand to rub soothingly between Nicky’s very tense shoulders. He was tempted to offer to give him a massage later, but – did friends give each other massages? Better not. 

“They’re fine. I’ve seen much worse.”

“They’re monsters,” Nicky said darkly. 

Joe laughed, but before he could respond, a kid – the one kid that _had_ actually been behaving – came up to shyly tell Nicky he was going to the bathroom. Nicky nodded, and Joe bit the inside of his cheek until the kid was out of hearing distance. 

“He’s so in love with you,” he finally observed.

Nicky gaped at him. “What? Don’t be silly.” 

“Oh, I’m not. He’s got literal heart eyes.”

“Joe – ” he tried to protest again, laughing at Joe’s description, but the slight blush tinging his cheeks revealed he wasn’t that oblivious. 

“I feel like there’s a pedophile priest joke to make here somewhere.”

All humor left Nicky’s face, and his expression became the textbook example of _if looks could kill_. “Please refrain from making it,” he bit out. 

Joe held up his hands in apologetic surrender. It took several more minutes and conciliatory overtures for Nicky to forgive him and talk to him again. And then it was Joe’s turn to work hard to avoid losing all his composure.

“There is – there is someone who’s interested, though.” Nicky heaved a breath. “I have a date this weekend.”

“Oh,” he said. “Oh. That’s – that’s great. Good for you. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know.” Nicky said, shrugging somewhat stiffly. “I just – we’ve been spending a lot of time together. I didn’t know if it would be weird.”

“It’s not weird.” Joe forced himself to sound as natural and upbeat as possible. “Why would it be weird? We’re friends.”

Nicky peered at him for a moment, his eyes digging into Joe’s in that way that made him want to confess all his sins and maybe even cop to things he didn’t even do, just so Nicky wouldn’t look at him like that any longer. He wondered if Nicky could tell he wasn’t nearly as supportive as he should be. 

But then, he simply said, “Maybe you should get back out there too.”

“Oh, I’m not ready,” Joe replied, knowing his go-to answer wasn’t really cutting it anymore. 

“I mean it, Joe. Don’t you think it’s time?”

He finally agreed, maybe just to hide certain things. And he even went so far as to actually make a date a few days later with a random guy at the coffee shop, maybe out of spite or in a weird attempt to make Nicky…jealous? Not suspect anything? He wasn’t sure.

All he knew was that he was very, very happy when Nicky called him up unexpectedly early the night of his date to complain about how awful it had been.

**

Nicky wondered if he or his sister were more charmed by how thoroughly Petey had become besotted with Joe within minutes of their first meeting (“Pete!” he had declared like a true 10-year-old, but he still laughed and let Nicky pull him into a bear hug as he claimed he’d always be Petey to him.). The two of them were running around the playground, playing some tag game whose rules Nicky could not figure out from a distance, but seemed to involve Joe occasionally grabbing Petey and holding him upside down while he shrieked. Gia and Nicky simply watched from a bench, chatting over coffee.

“I think Joe is his new favorite person,” she observed.

Nicky smiled serenely, not removing his gaze from Joe’s ass and feeling thankful for the sunglasses that concealed where his attention was focused. He was also thankful she brought up this subject in Italian, in case their voices carried, and he replied in kind.

“Looks like it.”

A very noticeable moment of silence and then: “Is Joe your new favorite person?”

Nicky took a sip of his coffee to delay answering. “What is that supposed to mean?” he finally asked. 

“I mean…you quit seminary and came out five years ago or so but have never even mentioned anyone. Now, you show up on our regular park day with this _unbelievably hot_ guy I would definitely leave my husband for. So, what am I supposed to think except maybe this is the guy you left the church for? Or the _hope_ of this guy.”

“I _didn’t_ – ” Nicky broke off, breathing out his nose sharply. He paused to control himself before trying again. “I didn’t leave the church for a guy.”

“I know, I know. Calm down. That’s not what I meant but…you know what I mean.”

“Joe and I are just friends.”

“OK.” They were both silent for a while, then Gia reached out and stroked her hand through his hair like their mother used to. “I just want you to be happy, Nico.”

“I am happy.”

“I can tell.”

“Gia.”

“That’s all I’m saying.”

To Nicky's relief, that's all she was able to say. Moments later, Petey and Joe came running over. Gia rescued his coffee cup just in time, as both of them grabbed one of Nicky's hands, dragging him to his feet with entreaties to come play.

**

“So, how was your date on Friday?” Joe asked Nicky.

Nicky shrugged, taking the pickle and half the onions off his sandwich before replacing the top slice of bread again. “Fine, I guess.”

“No sparks?”

“We – kissed. It was fine.”

“Faint praise. So, the world didn’t rock? You didn’t invite him up for a nightcap in your bedroom?”

Nicky tried very hard not to blush. Joe had taken to start probing more often about his love life or lack thereof. And, OK, yes, he was still a virgin. It just – was kind of embarrassing. But whatever. It wasn’t like Joe didn’t suspect it, even if he had never confirmed it. Nicky was getting sick of talking around the topic, so he just – 

“No, I didn’t,” he said, putting his sandwich down and leaning forward to look intently at Joe. “Because – what if I’m bad at it? What if I don’t like it?”

Joe’s mouth opened and closed once or twice, and Nicky took some comfort in being the one to throw him off his groove in one of these types of conversations for a change. 

“Well, not every time is going to be fantastic. First times are especially awkward. So, just…fake it ‘til you can try again with someone better, maybe?”

Nicky furrowed his brow. “Fake what?”

Joe gave him a _look_. 

“Orgasm?” Nicky realized. 

Joe snorted. “Yes. It will at least get you out of an uncomfortable conversation – or worse – if you realize the guy isn’t going to do it for you and you don’t want to embarrass him.”

“I didn’t – ” Nicky paused, feeling extremely inexperienced and naïve. “I didn’t think that was something guys needed to fake. Or could fake? Because…there’s, uh, physical evidence?”

“Is that what the detectives in your novels call it?”

“ _Joe_.”

“What?” He asked, laughing. “Not technically the same thing, first of all. But it’s not like guys will check the condom. And most guys who don’t care enough to make sure you come probably won’t care enough to notice if you didn’t, anyway.”

Nicky sighed. “But, are you really saying that some guys will… Have _you_?”

Joe looked at him for a moment. Then, he cleared his throat and took a sip of water. Nicky continued to watch him, confused, as he returned his glass to the table and curled his hand into a fist on top of the table. Joe’s eyes closed, the lids fluttering slightly.

“Mm,” he moaned softly, pressing his lips tightly together and swallowing before letting his mouth drop open. He started to breathe deeply, a bit unevenly. Nicky started to feel a little…uncomfortable. Joe tilted his head back, his breath getting even louder, loud enough to start drawing attention from other people in the diner. He fell back against the booth, sliding down in his seat a bit and rubbing one hand across his chest, scratching his fingers over his – his nipple. 

“Fuck,” he groaned under his breath. “Fuck, right there.”

Nicky raised an eyebrow, shifting in his own seat. 

Joe straightened his fingers, slamming the palm down on the table and making their plates clatter noisily. Nicky resolutely did not glance around to see how many people were now staring at them. 

“Yes.” Joe sighed, then bit his lip quickly. “Please, _please_.”

Nicky swallowed to get some moisture into his dry mouth. He knew his eyes were very wide but he couldn’t stop staring. He knew he was turning red, which he decided to blame on embarrassment rather than arousal. Joe’s body slowly rolled in a wave-like movement, little whimpers escaping his mouth, until he opened his eyes unexpectedly and stared right at Nicky with a gasp. 

Then, he simply smirked, reached out to pick up a fry, swirled it in ketchup, and took a bite. 

Nicky blinked, inhaling a bit unsteadily. “Any guy who actually knows you would know that was fake,” he said, proud of himself for sounding almost normal despite the very confused erection he was trying to ignore.

“Why’s that?” Joe asked, grinning. 

“No accent. And also, you realize that we can never show our faces in this diner again.”

Joe’s vibrant laugh drew even more stares.

**

It was probably the single best New Year’s Eve of Joe’s life. The work party was combined with the opening of an exhibit for local artists, and his art was actually included. And, maybe more importantly, Nicky had been dancing awfully close, getting quite touchy-feely the more champagne he drank. They were outside now, getting some fresh, if brisk, air and (in Joe’s case, at least) avoiding Andy’s knowing smirks. Joe still could remember the way she cackled when he came into work the first time after the bookstore and told her that Nicky was not, in fact, a priest.

“I think I’m drunk,” Nicky observed, laughing as he tilted his head to look up at the night sky. 

“I think you are too,” Joe said indulgently.

“I’ve never been drunk before.” 

“I like it. You’re maybe 20 percent less uptight.”

Nicky’s mouth dropped open in excessive offense. “I am not uptight,” he declared.

“Yes, you are.”

“I just like things the way I like them.”

“I know. A couple weeks ago, you threw one of your little wise men at me because I was decorating your tree wrong.”

Nicky huffed. “Lights, ornaments, garland, angel! There’s an order!”

Joe laughed, leaning back against the wall and hugging himself against the cold. “How am I supposed to know that?”

“Haven’t you ever dated anoth – a Christian?”

They were both silent for a moment, and Joe decided to let that slip of the tongue be blamed on the alcohol. He still didn’t know what to say, though, so he was grateful when Nicky complained again. 

“I am not uptight. I don’t know why I’m friends with you.”

“Who else would help you drag a tree five blocks to your apartment?”

He sighed. “Good point.” Then he leaned against the wall next to Joe, tilting his head just close enough to knock against Joe’s. “I had fun tonight. Thank you for bringing me.”

“Who else would I want at my big opening?”

Nicky turned to grin at him. “I’m so proud of you.”

Joe shook his head, demurring. “They had to accept my submission because I work here.”

“They did not, so shut up and enjoy it.”

“OK, OK.” Joe breathed in and out a couple times, enjoying the cold air and Nicky’s warmth next to him. “I had fun too. And next year, if neither of us are seeing anyone, we should be each other’s dates again.”

“Deal,” Nicky agreed quickly. 

And then – honking cars and cheering from inside. 

“It must be midnight,” Joe observed.

“Mm-hmm.”

They looked at each other, suddenly nervous. After a moment, Nicky breathed out a self-deprecating laugh, leaned in, and kissed Joe quickly. 

“Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” Joe murmured in reply.

**

“Hey!”

“Oh, hey!” Nicky half-stood from his seat outside the coffee shop to kiss Joe’s cheek and then Andy’s in greeting.

It was an exceptionally warm early spring day, so Joe couldn’t blame him and his friend for sitting outside. Joe glanced at the woman he was with, which prompted an introduction from Nicky.

“This is Quynh. We used to work together and are catching up. This is my friend, Joe, and his boss, Andy.”

Joe and Quynh nodded at each other, but she didn’t give him much more attention. Not compared to the way she was staring at Andy, anyway. The two of them shook hands, the physical contact lingering much longer than necessary and the eye contact lasting even longer.

“Would you like to join us?” Nicky asked, clearly fighting a laugh. 

“I’ll go order, shall I?” Joe said, tongue firmly in cheek.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Andy replied, as she and Quynh simultaneously lowered into seats next to each other. She didn’t bother to look at him, seeing as how she was still staring at Quynh. 

Joe looked at Nicky before heading inside to get their coffees. Nicky smirked back at him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recommended soundtrack: Madonna's Like a Virgin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA smut time

_We’re from the same city, but we never met until we were over there._

_I had a girlfriend back home, so I tried not to fall for her. But then she got hurt and I was just so scared. I had to admit the truth._

_It changed us both. Not just my injury – being there. Those women. Battle. The things we saw. The things we did._

_No one else would understand._

**

“Look at this, this is great!”

Joe hurried over to the table of classic board games made up to look snootily fancy with actual wooden boards and stone and glass game pieces. Nicky following in his wake, sighing in the affected way that made Joe grin. He knew he was being a bit childish, drawing their shopping trip out much longer than it needed to be, but he loved getting a reaction out of Nicky too much to stop. And he loved spending as much time as possible with Nicky even more.

“I don’t really think Andy and Quynh are board game people,” Nicky observed. “Let’s just get some kitchen appliance and be done with it.”

“They’re grown adults moving in together. I think they have all the kitchen appliances they need. What they _don’t_ have is an _artisanal_ version of Clue!” He held up the box with a grin. “Clue! How could _you_ say no to a game where you get to solve a murder?”

“Joe,” Nicky said, trying to sound firm despite the smile peeking at the corners of his mouth. “It’s not _for_ – ”

“Hello, Joe.”

Joe nearly dropped the game box at the unexpected sound of – that voice. He turned to see Keane and – that man.

“Keane.”

Nicky looked back and forth between them and then, perhaps in an attempt to rescue Joe, jumped into the conversation.

“Keane, hello. I don’t know if you remember me – ”

“Yes, hi, how are you?”

Joe noticed Keane didn’t say his name, though, and he knew that he didn’t really remember Nicky. He also didn’t even seem to care that Joe was with another man. He just held onto _Merrick’s_ hand, their fingers intertwined. As soon as the honeymoon period had worn off, he claimed to hate ‘pointless’ PDAs when it came to Joe. Guess he just didn’t make enough money to make it worth it.

“This is Steven,” Keane said, then was silent, letting Nicky make his own introduction.

After a tense moment when no one seemed to know what to say, Keane simply said, “Well, it was nice seeing you, Joe.”

He gave Joe a once-over, his mouth barely curling into a sneer when his eyes landed back on Joe’s hair and beard. He always hated it when Joe tried to grow it out, called it sloppy and said it made him look like a stereotype. Joe never really knew what he meant by that.

Then, they thankfully left them alone. Nicky turned to him, a hesitant but concerned expression on his face. Joe put the game down and started walking in the opposite direction as Keane and Merrick.

“Kitchen appliances are this way,” he said, his voice little more than a grunt.

He was still acting pretty childish, he knew, by the time they got to Andy and Quynh’s new place. Now it was less boisterous and more petulant, though. The eighth or ninth time he hinted that they should mark down who owned what, so it would be easier to split up their belongings when their relationship inevitably crashed and burned, Nicky made apologies for both of them and led him outside.

Once they were out on the front steps, Nicky said gently, “I know it was unexpected and upsetting to see them, but this day is about wishing Andy and Quynh the best.”

Joe was in no mood for his reprimands _or_ his sympathy. “Sorry I’m human and have emotions. Unlike you.” He threw his hands in the air and turned away, walking down the steps and facing Nicky again when he reached the sidewalk. Nicky’s expression was – as usual – pretty guarded. “Nothing bothers you! You never get upset about anything. You’re Italian; you’re supposed to be passionate about things!”

Nicky furrowed his brow, possibly hurt or confused or trying to brush it off. Who the hell knew?

“Your little half-smiles and tiny chuckles,” Joe continued, knowing he was being unfair and mean but just needing to yell about _something_. “You don’t have any passion about anything or anyone. Don’t tell me when and how to get over things. You broke up with God _five_ years ago, and you still have one foot in the closet, going out for dinner once a month like clockwork and leaving those poor guys out on the street with blue balls and no second date.”

Nicky’s eyes narrowed, and while the cold anger in them was characteristically subdued, it was certainly intense – and unmistakable. “I don’t need to _fuck_ someone to prove I’m gay,” Nicky replied firmly, but becoming more and more shaky as he continued to speak. “And I don’t see your active social life turning Keane into a faint memory. Besides, I will make love to someone when it is _making love_ , not the way you do it, like it is some battle or contest to win. And _yes_ , I do have feelings, so I would appreciate it if you stop taking yours out on me!”

Joe exhaled, feeling horrible about too many things to count. “Can I say something?”

Nicky’s eyes flashed at him, but he nodded jerkily.

“I’m sorry,” Joe said. “I’m a jackass. I’m sorry.”

Nicky sighed and pulled him into a hug. Joe clung to him, turning his head so he could nuzzle into Nicky’s neck, as he tried not to cry.

**

“Oh! Oh! Um… _You’ve Got Mail_?”

“Yes!” Leo shouted, pointing at Nicky with a wide smile. He stepped over to him and pulled him into a kiss.

Nicky laughed against his lips, not even embarrassed by his public display of affection. Not that it was really public – just game night at Andy and Quynh’s. He was right that they weren’t board game people, but they _were_ vicious at Charades and Trivia. Pictionary had also been proposed but immediately dismissed by Quynh and Nicky, who knew better than to play against two people who had not only very strong skills in, but also very strong opinions about, art. Leo and Greg, the guy Joe was seeing, had abstained from voting, perhaps wisely.

He also didn’t mind the PDA because Leo was a pretty damn good kisser. This was their fourth date, and the first time meeting friends, so it felt like things were starting to get pretty serious. Nicky also was starting to think he might be interested in finding out if Leo was good at other things that go along with kissing. Not yet, though. He couldn’t even really say what he was waiting for but just…not yet.

With a smile at Greg, Joe got up for his turn. Nicky had just met him that night too, and he was – he was proud of Joe for trying for something real. He’d been seeing the guy for about a month, the longest Joe had ever been with someone since Keane. So…Nicky wasn’t going to say anything bad about him and ruin it.

But Nicky just – he just – he wasn’t sure about him. He didn’t know why. He was a perfectly nice guy, and he seemed to treat Joe fine, and – there was just something about him. He just – wasn’t right for Joe.

For one thing, Joe was _obviously_ acting out _The Princess Bride_. Anyone should have been able to figure that out. And yet, the timer ran out while Greg was still guessing completely wrong answers. Did he even know Joe at all?

**

It was early, but Joe was already in bed like the old man he was beginning to fear he secretly was, trying to read his book but barely keeping his eyes open, when his phone rang. He picked it up off the bedside table and looked at the screen. He was surprised to see Nicky’s name. Partly because it was ingrained into Nicky that it was incredibly rude to call after 9 except in an emergency and partly because he thought Nicky was out with Leo that night. He hoped everything was OK.

“Nicky?” he answered.

“Are you alone?” He sounded very upset.

“Yes,” Joe said, sitting up in concern and putting his book aside. “Is everything – ”

“Can you come over?”

“I’ll be right there,” he said immediately.

He made it to Nicky’s apartment in record time, and Nicky opened the door on the first knock. If he _had_ been crying, he wasn’t anymore, although his eyes were red. At the moment, though, he was nothing but angry. His hair looked like he had run his hands through it about a dozen times, and his jaw was clenched tighter than Joe had ever seen it.

“What’s going on?” Joe asked, entering the apartment and closing the door behind himself while Nicky turned and walked away. He took off his jacket and hung it on the hook by the door, next to Nicky’s own. “Your – family? Something at work?” Joe guessed, when Nicky still hadn’t answered.

“Leo.”

OK, yes, that was probably obvious in retrospect.

“He dumped me.”

Joe’s reaction probably shouldn’t have been relief. There was something about the guy that just rubbed him the wrong way. Greg had even accused him of being jealous when he said as much after they met at Andy and Quynh’s the other night. Unwilling to admit that the accusation felt a little too accurate, Joe acted offended and denied it and they fought and ended up breaking up that night, but he still stood by his impression of Leo. He didn’t think Nicky really wanted to hear that right now, though. He was pretty sure this was Nicky’s first real break-up.

“I’m sorry,” Joe said. “Do you want to tell me what happened? You don’t have to. I can just – ”

“He got bored, I guess,” Nicky bit out. “Only so long a _normal_ man will put up with a virgin who’s scared of sex, I guess.”

“Ah.” Joe hesitated, not sure what he should say, or if he should say anything at all. Nicky answered that for him pretty quickly.

“I want to have sex!” he shouted, surprising Joe with the volume if not the content of the statement. He blinked as Nicky continued in a more restrained tone, although faster than normal, “I didn’t quit the seminary and come out just to stay celibate my whole life. I want to have sex.”

“I know,” Joe said quietly, attempting to be supportive while still letting Nicky get it all out.

“I need water. My throat hurts,” he said somewhat nonsensically.

“OK.”

He walked away. Joe followed him into the bedroom, watching as Nicky picked up a glass of water off the bedside table and took a long drink. Then he put the empty glass down with an un-Nicky-like slam and faced Joe again.

“But I still want it to be the right time,” he continued as if there had been no interruption. “I still want to work through all the _mess_ around it in my head, so I feel ready for it. I want it to be with a person I trust and care for, who I know will respect me enough to, I don’t know, do it right.” He pounded one fist into the other hand. “I’ve waited long enough to _at least_ have that.”

“Yes, you have,” Joe agreed.

Nicky held a hand to his eyes, grimacing. “I can’t believe I even thought he might – ”

“If you could take him back right now,” Joe interrupted, hoping to help Nicky realize and accept he was better off without an asshole like that, “would you?”

“ _No!_ ” Nicky declared, forcefully enough to be undoubtedly honest. And then he breathed out shakily, the expression of pain on his face deepening. “But why aren’t I worth waiting for?”

“Oh!” Joe stepped closer, just as Nicky did too. He hugged him tightly, one hand coming up to hold the back of Nicky’s head. “You are,” he murmured into Nicky’s ear. “You _are_.”

Sometime later, Nicky’s grip on Joe loosened, and his breath slowed into a regular rhythm. He pulled slightly back from Joe, seeming sheepish. Before he could needlessly apologize, Joe smiled at him and brushed the hair off his forehead.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Joe started to back away even more, but Nicky wouldn’t let him. “Will you just – ”

Joe hummed in agreement, returning to the hug, pressing his forehead against Nicky’s before tilting just a bit to drop what he would swear under oath was a chaste, comforting kiss on his lips. Nicky returned it. And then he kissed Joe again. And again, for longer. And again, less chaste this time, with a half-open mouth and a hint of tongue.

“Nicky,” Joe warned, when they briefly separated.

“Joe,” Nicky said, no longer bitter or sad enough to be a red flag, although perhaps a little too _something_ for it to be entirely wise of Joe to listen to him. “Joe, please,” he whispered.

A better man would have stopped, would have remembered what Nicky had _just_ said about what he wanted from his first partner. But the bed was _right there_ and he had wanted Nicky for as long as he could remember and Nicky had asked so nicely and Joe could find just enough reasons to justify it.

They fell onto the bed still kissing. Nicky stopped for a moment, breathing roughly before he surged up and connected their mouths again. Joe dropped between the V of his legs like they were made to fit together, and he rocked his body against Nicky’s, not sure which he enjoyed more: feeling Nicky’s hardening cock against his own or the way Nicky’s leg hooked over his to hold him in place.

That was a lie. Of course, he knew which one he liked more. But he gave up both of them temporarily to sit up. Nicky protested, reaching out for him until he realized Joe wasn’t actually stopping or leaving. Instead, Joe stripped his shirt over his head, before dropping his hands to his fly. He toed off his shoes, then pulled his jeans and socks off after a couple tries, frustratingly uncoordinated in his impatience.

Focusing back on Nicky, he grinned when he saw that Nicky had gotten with the program and was twisting around on the bed, pushing and pulling his own clothes off. Soon they were both down to just their underwear, and Joe needed to touch him again so badly, he just _collapsed_ back on top of him. He propped himself on one elbow, bending down to kiss every part of Nicky’s face and neck and chest he could reach. Nicky clung to him, moaning as he kissed him back, lifting his hips over and over again to brush against Joe’s. With his free hand, Joe reached down blindly, pushing both of their underwear down. The first time they came into contact skin-to-skin, they both gasped. And then they really just…went for it, humping each other artlessly, with no rhythm whatsoever. Joe would have been embarrassed by his lack of finesse if he weren’t so damn –

“This would work even better with lube,” he grunted, maybe looking for some excuse for why he wasn’t doing his best work.

“I have lube,” Nicky replied breathlessly. He pushed Joe away, even though Joe resisted, half-sitting to reach out for the bedside table. He pulled open the drawer and pulled the bottle out before he spoke again. “I’ve been practicing.”

Joe was pretty sure he blacked out for a moment at the mental image. Then, he shook his head, remembering he didn’t have to settle for his imagination for once. And also remembering that it was damn time he started acting like the person with actual experience here. That meant slowing down and focusing on making it good for Nicky.

He had no doubt he personally would have the time of his life, no matter what.

He took the bottle from Nicky and poured a dollop in his palm before capping it and setting it off to the side of the mattress. He moved his fingers over and around his palm, spreading the lube out and warming it up, even as he reached out with his clean hand to pull Nicky close for another kiss. He straightened them out over the mattress, kissing Nicky long and deep, making it as sensual as he possibly could. And when he moved to nuzzle against Nicky’s neck, the sounds of his trembling breaths were more than gratifying. Joe finally moved his hand down, taking hold of Nicky’s cock in a just-firm-enough grip and beginning to stroke.

Something that sounded like _heungh_ punched its way out of Nicky, and then he was sighing, moving his hips in time with Joe’s fist.

“Yusuf,” he whispered.

Joe lifted his head, suspecting his eyes were shining when he grinned at Nicky. “I like that.”

“What?” Nicky asked, sounding confused.

“Yusuf.”

“Did I say that?”

“Mmm.”

“Oh.” Then, he just sounded embarrassed. “I – call you that in my head sometime.”

“You can call me it out loud if you want,” Joe replied, only half-teasing. “What else do you want?”

“Huh?”

“What do you want?” he repeated, nodding meaningfully towards their lower bodies.

Nicky seemed so entirely overwhelmed that Joe wondered if he’d actually ask for anything, or be able to form the words. But he did manage to say, eventually, “I’ve heard that – will you – your mouth?”

“You want me to suck you off?” Joe asked, wanting to be sure he knew what Nicky was asking.

Nicky shook his head. “No, uh. Well, yeah, I do, but I meant…lower. Down on – not my – uh, rimming?”

“Oh!”

“Is that OK?” Nicky asked quickly, and Joe rushed to reassure him.

“Yeah, definitely. Turn over,” he said, pushing at Nicky’s shoulder at the same time.

Nicky rolled, even as he looked back at Joe. “I want to see you.”

“You can see me later,” Joe promised, moving quickly to pull Nicky’s underwear off all the way. He took his own off as well, almost as an afterthought. “But this will be easier like this.”

Nicky didn’t protest any longer, perhaps because he was now face down against the mattress. Joe paused to admire the ass he had looked at so many times but never like this. The fact that he was about to bury his face in it like he had only ever dreamed before…

He shook his head, inhaled, and reached down. He kneaded the muscle a bit, making Nicky buck. After taking a moment to let him calm, Joe separated the cheeks, leaned down, brushed his nose along the skin at the top of Nicky’s crack. He lightly traced one lubed-up finger down, following the movement with a lick of his tongue _up_ , the taste nowhere near bad enough to put him off. He smiled at the loud, absolutely broken, and apparently involuntary noise Nicky made. And then he…dug in. Lips, tongue, the slightest grazing of teeth occasionally, fingers, lube mixing with saliva. He sucked and he kissed and pressed inside, and Nicky pushed back against him. At one point, Nicky reached one hand behind himself, grabbing the back of Joe’s head, not holding him in place so much as pulling him ever closer.

Soon enough, Nicky was rapidly saying something that may have just been babbling for all Joe knew of Italian. He was practically climbing up the bed, one knee crooked up at an odd angle, fisting the sheets with both hands, and his forehead pressed into the pillow beneath him. Joe backed away just long enough to admire the red skin on Nicky’s ass and thighs where his beard had been rubbing. And then he hooked both hands under Nicky’s hips, hauling him up to his knees. Nicky stayed on his elbows, though, moving his hands to cover his face as he moaned non-stop. Joe dove back in, this time reaching under to grope and fondle Nicky’s cock and balls. It didn’t take much longer – although Joe had to admit to being impressed that it had already lasted that long – before Nicky came rather explosively. Frankly, he was surprised that he hadn’t blown his own rock-hard erection at the same time.

While Nicky was still coming down, Joe repositioned them so they were on their sides and face-to-face. Remembering his promise and needing to get back a little control of himself, he waited until Nicky opened his eyes and looked at him, smiling somewhat dazedly, before he moved again. He swirled his hand in the mess all over Nicky, using it to coat his cock, which he then guided between Nicky’s thighs.

“Are we going to…?”

“No,” Joe replied, breathing out a laugh. “That’s really something you gotta work up to.”

Nicky nodded, his eyes dropping closed for a moment, maybe in relief, maybe in disappointment, maybe both.

“We’re just gonna do this,” Joe clarified, slowly beginning to move, trapping Nicky’s no-doubt sensitive cock between their bodies and letting his own slide along the crack of Nicky’s ass.

“ _Oh_ , I like that,” Nicky mumbled. He reached out, wrapping his arms around Joe and pulling him closer, angling for a kiss.

Joe turned his head aside, but immediately explained, “You probably don’t want to do that after – ” He nodded down at their lower bodies.

“Oh. Right.”

“This is OK, though,” Joe offered, grinning before shifting closer and latching his mouth onto Nicky’s neck.

The alternative seemed more than acceptable, as Nicky began to run his mouth up and down Joe’s throat and over his shoulder. They held each other impossibly close, grinding together, hands roaming over warm expanses of skin.

“You’re getting hard again,” Joe observed, as surprised as he was flattered by the slight but unmistakable stiffening of Nicky’s cock between them. Nicky only hummed in acknowledgment. “You gonna come again?” Joe wondered, intrigued by the challenge.

But Nicky only snorted. “No. But I want you to.”

“I want that, too,” Joe agreed, chuckling.

A few moments of quiet as they continued to slowly rock their bodies together, and then Nicky said, “I can hear it,” his voice muffled against Joe’s neck.

“What?”

“Your accent.”

Joe laughed out loud. “Oh.”

“It’s sexy.”

Joe swallowed, ratcheting up from pleasantly aroused back to _ready to go_ in mere moments. He mouthed at Nicky’s ear, sucking and tonguing a bit at the lobe before saying, with as much accent as he could play up in a single word, “Nicolo.”

With a whine, Nicky pulled him into an even tighter embrace. Joe let his hand fall down to Nicky’s ass and tugged him closer still, his fingers dipping back between the cheeks. They became nothing more than writhing limbs and torsos practically _glued_ together from top to bottom. The sound of the bed squeaking, heavy breaths and moans filled the room. Nicky, an apparently very quick learner, dug his teeth into the muscle of Joe’s shoulder while pressing his legs tighter together around Joe’s cock. And Joe just could _not_ hold on any longer. With a shout, he came, his body jerking. Nicky held him through it, softly murmuring words Joe could not understand.

Eventually, they pulled apart. Common sense – and more than a little shame – started to come back to Joe. When he thought he could stand up on his shaky legs, he did, needing to move and maybe wanting to escape for a bit too. He bent over to drop a kiss on Nicky’s cheek.

“Be right back.”

He grabbed the empty glass off Nicky’s bedside table and headed for the bathroom. The first thing he did was wash his hands. After filling the glass, he then grabbed Nicky’s tube of toothpaste and finger-brushed his mouth out. He ran his wet hands down his face and then soaked a washcloth. He vigorously rubbed at himself, cleaning up the – the physical evidence. As he rinsed out the towel again, he looked at himself in the mirror. In the harsh light, he looked exactly how he felt – thoroughly fucked, in more ways than one, and also exactly like the kind of selfish jerk who would –

Joe shook his head, looking down to wring out the excess water in the towel. He picked up the glass and returned to the bedroom. Nicky, he could tell, was half-asleep. He was almost dead weight when Joe tried to clean him off, and he shook his shoulder to get him to roll enough for Joe to get at all the…hard-to-reach areas.

“Drink some of this water,” he said, handing Nicky the glass.

Nicky obliged, forcing himself to sit and drink before looking blearily at Joe.

“Wanna watch a movie or something?”

Joe was so shocked, he actually looked up and made eye contact. “You want to watch a movie? _Now?_ ”

“No, I just don’t want you to go yet,” Nicky confessed.

Joe’s shoulders dropped. Look, he might be an asshole but he wasn’t _that_ much of an asshole. “I’ll stay,” he said, as if _I never want to leave_ wasn’t actually the truth that he could barely admit to himself, let alone Nicky.

So, he climbed back onto the bed, stretching out his legs and settling onto one of the pillows rather stiffly. He was in the wet spot, but he figured he deserved it. Nicky curled against him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Is this OK?”

 _It’s perfect_ , Joe thought, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah, yeah. It’s OK,” he said instead.

Nicky fell asleep almost immediately. Joe stayed awake, silently panicking for quite some time until he must have conked out too. When the sunlight coming in through the window woke him, they had moved to their sides, Joe spooned up behind Nicky. He closed his eyes, enjoying it for a moment, before slowly and carefully climbing out of bed.

He was dressed, sitting on the foot of the bed and pulling on his shoes when he sensed Nicky sit up.

“Are you going?” Nicky asked.

Joe twisted, pasting on a smile. “Yeah, I have to go to work,” he said. Neither one of them pointed out it was Saturday, so Joe forged on. “But I’d like to get dinner tonight, if you’re free. Are you free?”

“Uh-huh,” Nicky said, the tone of his voice skeptical and guarded. Joe figured he wasn’t quite selling the nonchalant attitude he was aiming for.

“OK, I’ll text you,” he said. He stood, hesitating for a moment as he wondered if he should kiss Nicky goodbye. He decided against it, choosing instead to give him a very awkward wave before turning and leaving the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is obviously more "inspired by" than it is a movie transcript with the names cut and pasted, but I still need to hit the major plot points. I've also made a point of mixing it up with regards to which one is equivalent to Harry or Sally in the different scenes. But with the backstories and personalities I gave them in this, it only made sense for Nicky to be the "vulnerable" one in the sex scene, which especially viewed through the standards of today, is _problematic_ , if not necessarily unrealistic or I'd argue even worthy of a dub-con tag. (I guess there's still another version of this in my head, where it was Joe, upset over his ex moving on, closer to how the movie had it happen). But when I chose to go this way, I also felt I had to tell the scene from Joe's POV, because I wanted it to be clear how conflicted he was, how much he loves Nicky and wants to be with him but also how much he knew or eventually remembered it was NOT the right time. With the movie, I never know if Harry is "there" yet in terms of his understanding but I get the feeling that he's not, so that wouldn't work here. Joe understands what he's feeling, but given his own hang-ups and issues and whatnot, not to mention what he _thinks_ Nicky does and doesn't want from him, he might not always make the best choices.
> 
> (Also, if anyone is curious, yes, the boyfriends were supposed to be named after the comic writer and artist. To me, though, Leandro is an obvious enough homage to take people out of the story so I went with a slight variation. Plus ~~as much as I criticize the art~~ I didn't think it was fair to make his namesake a complete dick.)


	6. Chapter 6

Nicky made sure to arrive at the restaurant early, and he took the seat that gave him full view of the door so he would know the moment Joe arrived. He had been trying to think of what to say ever since that morning, when Joe had run off with barely a backward glance. The thing was, no matter how much he ignored or pretended otherwise, he had always known that Joe – Joe wore his heart on his sleeve. They had both been blown away by what happened between them the previous night, and they had both been overwhelmed that morning, but it wasn’t too late. Nicky was pretty sure he could salvage this, as long as Joe let him speak first. 

Joe walked in, and even from a distance, Nicky could tell how nervous he was. When he sat down across from him at the table, he fidgeted with the menu, with the fork, with the water glass, never making eye contact. 

Nicky leaned forward, trying to remember the words he had practiced. “Last night was a mistake,” he said, then immediately shook his head. That didn’t sound right at all. Why did he think he could suddenly be well-spoken about his feelings? “That’s not what I – ”

Joe’s instant reaction – something like horror or desperation – was forced away quickly. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes, I know,” he said, cutting off Nicky. “I’m so sorry. Nicky, I…” he trailed off.

And then…doubt. The question of whether Joe meant he was sorry they did it _at all_ and not that they did it _like that_. 

Nicky managed a weak smile, picking up his menu for something else to focus on. “No need to apologize,” he said as carefree as possible. “We’re both adults. We can just forget it and go back to normal.”

“Right,” Joe said stiffly. “Probably for the best.”

Nicky hummed in agreement, reaching out for his water glass and almost toppling it over before recovering. 

They did not go back to normal.

\--

“I don’t know,” Joe said, sighing, staring at the carefully-packed box of paintings they just took down. “Maybe you get to a certain point in a relationship where it’s just too late to have sex, you know?”

Andy threw a roll of packing tape at him. It bounced against his chest, and he barely caught it before it fell to the ground.

“What?”

“I asked you if you called the delivery service yet, not for the latest update in the Nicky Saga.”

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll call them now.”

Joe trudged off, only half-listening to Andy’s mumbled curses.

\--

Quynh held a subtly elegant black suit in front of herself, and then she switched it for a white one, and then she raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“You’d look beautiful in either,” Nicky offered.

“Of course I would, but you’re still no help,” Quynh said, hanging them both back up. “Maybe I’ll go with a dress, I don’t know.”

“You’d look beautiful in a dress too.”

“Of course I would. What’s bothering you?”

Nicky sighed, lifting a hand to run a finger down the sleeve of the outfit hanging in front of him. 

“Is Joe seeing anyone? Is he bringing someone to the wedding?”

A long pause. “I don’t know. He’s your best friend; why don’t you ask him if he is?”

Nicky shrugged, turning away so she couldn’t see his eyes. “We haven’t talked much lately.”

Later, over coffee, Quynh took pity on him. “He’s not seeing anyone, Nicky. Obviously, he’s not seeing anyone. He’s as miserable as you are.”

Nicky sighed, picking at the cardboard circle wrapped around his cup.

**

Quynh looked beautiful, as did Andy. And Nicky knew that, on this day, he was only supposed to be noticing and admiring the brides. But those same brides had made him and Joe their best men, so Nicky spent most of the day only a few feet from Joe in a tux, and he was only human. He kept glancing at Joe during the ceremony, but Joe never looked back, or else he timed his own glances so perfectly, they were always one beat off from each other.

That seemed very much like them, so it probably was the case. 

At the dinner, they were seated several chairs away and facing the same direction, so it was harder to look at him. Probably for the best. It wasn’t until the reception that they actually said more than two words to each other. 

It had been an accident or really bad timing. He was coming down the hall after leaving the bathroom, and he ran into Joe walking out of the kitchen. Almost literally ran into him, but he caught himself just in time.

“Hi,” Joe said. 

“Hi.”

“Andy asked me to check with the caterer on the champagne. They’re doing the toasts soon.”

“OK.” Nicky wondered if he was trying to update him on the wedding agenda, or if he felt some strange need to explain why he was there, where Nicky happened to be. 

Whatever the reason, neither of them spoke for a moment, and then Joe looked down the hall like he was planning his escape. 

“Why can’t we get past this?” Nicky blurted.

Joe tensed up, then he sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not here.”

“You don’t want to talk about it anywhere.” Joe didn’t say anything, and after a moment, Nicky gave up. He spread his hands out. “Nothing to talk about anyway, right? We both agreed it was a mistake.”

Joe dropped his head for a moment, before focusing his big, expressive eyes on Nicky. “It was the worst mistake I ever made, Nicky,” he declared earnestly, apologetically.

Nicky blinked, head twitching to the side. A petty part of him wondered if Joe was including wasting five years of his life with Keane in that ranking, or if all that _that_ entailed was still better than one night of sex with him. Before he could respond, though, with that or even with something actually productive, Joe spoke again, twisting the knife even more. 

“I just want you to know that I did not go over there to make love to you that night. That is not why I went there, and I wish I – ”

Nicky had never even suggested that was the case, so he didn’t know why Joe felt the need to make that point so ardently. It wasn’t enough, apparently, to agree that it was a mistake, the _worst_ mistake _ever_. He also had to imply – what – that he took pity on Nicky? That he didn’t just regret it but had never even wanted it in the first place? Liar. 

“You certainly took advantage of the opportunity when it presented itself, though, didn’t you?” he asked, scoffing bitterly and ignoring Joe’s look of dismay. “Congratulations, Joe. You _finally_ fucked me. I guess you don’t have to pretend to care anymore.”

That shocked the guilty sadness that seemed to cover Joe away. He gave Nicky the most scornful look. “Screw you.”

“Already did,” Nicky said with a lightness he didn’t feel. He mostly felt like he was going to cry or puke. Possibly both. He just wanted Joe to hurt as much as he did. “Turns out I wasn’t missing out on much all those years.”

Joe stared at him for a moment, then looked away. He laughed once, humorlessly, then nodded. “OK. Fine.”

He started walking then, heading back toward the main room. Nicky supposed he should be used to Joe walking out on him, but – he hadn’t even seemed offended or sad anymore, just _done_.

Nicky inhaled an unsteady breath, then looked down at his shaking hands. He wondered if this was the beginning of a panic attack. He wondered if he had just driven away his best friend forever. 

He jumped into motion, hurrying into the main room and spotting Joe almost immediately. He made it to him just in time to say his name and get a dead-eyed look in response, when Quynh’s microphone-enhanced voice interrupted. 

“We know that this is the opposite of the usual practice, but well, that’s true about pretty much everything in this wedding! So, we want to make a speech honoring our best men instead of the reverse. They introduced us, and we proceeded to ignore them for the next two hours, eyes only for each other. Sorry, guys, but – ”

“But this woman was just so much more captivating than anything either of them had to say,” Andy interrupted. “So, what we really want to say is – to Joe and Nicky. Our meeting was a happy accident that changed our lives, and we owe it to you.”

The other guests applauded, and Nicky nodded uncomfortably. He sensed Joe smile and lift his hand in a quick wave next to him. Then, before the cheers died down, Joe was moving, engaging a random guest into conversation in a clear attempt to get away from Nicky.

**

_Voice Mail (Sunday, 10 AM): Joe? It’s Nicky. Uh, obviously. I know you probably don’t – um, I just wanted to – I’ll try back later… And, um, if you have a hangover from yesterday, remember to drink lots of water. You never drink enough water._

_Voice Mail (Sunday, 2 PM): Hi. It’s me again. I hope you’re… Anyway, please call me._

_Voice Mail (Sunday, 7 PM): I’m sorry, Joe. I didn’t – I didn’t mean – Cazzo!_

_Text Message (Tuesday, 4 PM): Hey, you should be getting off work soon. Can I buy you a coffee, if you’re free? I’ll meet you wherever you want._

_Voice Mail (Thursday, 9 AM): Probably coming off as a very clingy stalker, huh? Guess this is what people mean when they warn about sleeping with virgins… That sounded funnier in my head. Sorry. None of this is your fault. I’ll just – I’ll leave you alone._

_Text Message (Friday, 8 PM): Could you please just let me know you’re OK? A text is fine if you don’t want to talk._

The phone rang late Saturday afternoon. At his desk, surrounded by sheets of paper – many but not all crumpled up – and pencils worn to stubs, Joe stared at his cell for a long moment. He picked it up and tilted the screen towards himself to confirm it was Nicky again. He couldn’t bring himself to block his number. In fact, he had listened to and read every message, unable or unwilling to answer.

That day, when he went on a long, depressed walk, he saw no fewer than ten different couples carrying Christmas trees down the sidewalks. He had pretended the tears in his eyes were just from the cold air. 

Joe sighed and pressed the button to answer the call.

“Hello.”

“…Joe? Joe!”

“I’m just on my way out,” he lied. “What do you want?”

There was a long pause that almost made Joe laugh. After all that, Nicky still didn’t have any words. Finally, he spoke. “I just called to say I’m sorry.”

“I know; you said. I said I was too. Is that all?”

Nicky sighed. “Do you want to – meet up and – I don’t know, figure this out? Or…I got the reminder about the museum’s New Year’s party today, and we did say we’d go. We could get dinner before it, maybe?”

Joe stared blankly at the wall opposite him. “We said we’d go if we were both single. As _back-ups_.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know, but that was just – ”

“I can’t do this anymore, Nicky. I don’t want to be your…practice boyfriend.”

“Joe,” Nicky replied, voice breaking.

Joe shook his head even though Nicky couldn’t see him, steeling himself. “Maybe we can be friends again someday, I don’t know. But not right now. We messed this all up, and I am _so_ sorry for all of it, but I…I have to go.”

“Joe, wait – ”

Joe hung up and turned off his phone.

**

It was probably the single worst New Year’s Eve of Nicky’s life. He lay on his couch, staring at the ceiling, wishing he could just fall asleep and wake up in the morning after the damn day was over and with it the rest of the holiday season and everyone could go back to their regular lives instead of all this forced cheer. His couch was really too old and lumpy to sleep on, but no way was he going to go into the bedroom. He hadn’t been able to get any rest in there since – since – it was ridiculous. He had shared a bed with Joe one night, and now he couldn’t sleep without Joe’s arms around him.

Nicky sighed. He turned his head to the side and immediately spotted the framed family photo on the table next to the TV. God, he really wished he could talk to his father. He always had great advice. 

Suddenly, he remembered how Joe distracted him during what he had expected to be a horrible flight home to say goodbye to his father. He remembered telling Joe how he wished he had told his father the truth about himself. And then memory after memory after memory flashed through his mind, every moment he and Joe spent together, all the ways they had changed and grown as individuals and because of each other’s influence. Looking back, he could see that he fell for Joe more than a decade ago, and would have slept with him in that car, or in the tiny bathroom of that plane, or in some hidden back aisle of that bookstore, or any of the other times since they actually got to know each other, when Joe had made it more than clear how he felt – that he didn’t just want Nicky, but _loved_ him. 

And on the other hand, he would never have slept with Joe at all if he had known it meant losing him.

Nicky sat up. Gia was right. Somehow, the way Joe made him feel even the very first time they met, the hint of what a different life could be like, had been enough to put a seed of doubt in him, a little niggling _what if_ that suggested there was another path for him. And when he had the chance to finally have that, he instead ruined the most important relationship of his life because of his own inability to just _tell the truth_. None of what he said at the wedding was fair. Joe had been nothing but his best friend in the whole damn world, and everything that happened between them that night was because Nicky had _begged_ for it and then he wasn’t even a big enough person to accept responsibility for the fallout.

He wasn’t going to lose Joe. He wasn’t.

Nicky jumped to his feet, pausing only long enough to grab his keys, wallet and coat, and then he was out the door. He reached the street out front of his building in record time, looking wildly around for a taxi. Who the hell was he kidding? He wasn’t going to wait around for an available taxi to magically appear that night. So…he ran, heading for the museum instead of Joe’s apartment. He didn’t even know for sure he’d be there, but just something in his heart told him to go that way. Maybe it was destiny. 

Nicky was breathing heavily from exertion and shivering from the strange mix of sweat and cold air by the time he burst through the doors of the museum. The crowd was huge, and the music was too loud to even try to call out for him but – there. There he was, standing alone and staring down at the drink in his hand. Nicky forced his way between small groups and dancing couples. He had only made it several feet when Joe looked up and made eye contact. 

Joe stared at him for a moment, a shocked expression on his face. And then he put his glass down on a nearby table and started to walk closer, meeting Nicky halfway. 

“Nicky, what are you doing here?” he asked, not angrily but – anxiously?

Nicky breathed deeply once, twice. Finally, the words came. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and – you’re the love of my life.”

Joe sighed, dropping his shoulders and looking away. When he faced Nicky again, he just looked sad. So…not a great start to Nicky’s first attempt at a grand romantic gesture. 

“Nicky, I know it’s New Year’s and you’re lonely and I know – I know I was your first, but…we’ve both made so many mistakes. You can’t just come here, tell me you love me, and expect everything to be OK. It doesn’t work that way.”

“How does it work?” Nicky asked.

“I don’t know.” Joe shrugged in resignation. “Not this way.”

“How about this way? I love that you’re so funny and flirtatious and full of joy, but know when to take things seriously. I love how you have eight different half-read books in your apartment but won’t admit you need reading glasses. I love – no, actually I kind of hate how you pretend sometimes like you’re just this devil-may-care guy to protect yourself because you’ve been hurt and judged so many times. I love how you see the beauty in the most normal, mundane things and what a fantastic artist that makes you. I love how good you are with Petey. I love how you sing along to country music even though you’re the first to admit you can’t carry a tune in a bucket. I love how you look at me with those stupidly big anime eyes. And it’s _not_ because it’s New Year’s Eve and I’m lonely, and it’s _not_ because you were my first and made me come so hard I forgot my own name. Damn it, I should have figured out what I was going to say. This is horrible.”

“No, it’s not,” Joe said, laughing. Nicky suddenly noticed that Joe was grinning wider than he’d ever seen him and those stupidly big anime eyes were _shining_ like the sun. 

Nicky exhaled, his shoulders dropping as all the tension left his body. “I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

Nicky barely got the words out before Joe was all over him, pulling him into a tight embrace while also kissing him so forcefully, they almost tilted off-balance and Nicky feared they would fall to the floor. 

Eventually, they separated. Nicky smiled at Joe, resting one hand on his cheek.

“Yusuf, it’s not midnight yet,” he teased.

“Nicolo, I don’t care.”

For that, he had to kiss him again. It was shorter this time, though, because they were both too busy smiling.

“What are you doing after this?” Joe asked.

“No plans,” Nicky confirmed, laughing.

“You want to get out of here?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Good, because I’m too damn old for parties like this.”

Nicky smiled fondly. “I know. You must be exhausted.”

“I am. I’m so mad at Andy and Quynh for making me be here. I just want to go to sleep. But I’ll have to get my second wind, because there’s a _lot_ of things I love about you, and I want to tell you all about them. Right now. It will probably take a couple hours. Also, I’m very much afraid I wrote some truly terrible poetry – Nicky, I compared you to the _moon_. And I drew about a thousand pictures of you.”

Nicky leaned closer, pecking his lips quickly. “Let’s go then. I can’t wait to see and hear them.” 

Before they left, though, they kissed one more time, deepening it as they heard the countdown begin around them and other couples join in the celebration of a new beginning.

**

_The first time we met, we hated each other._

_No, you didn’t hate me; I hated you._

_No, you didn’t. The second time we met, you didn’t even remember me._

_I did too. I remembered you._

_The third time we met, we became friends._

_We were friends for a long time. And then we weren’t._

_And then we fell in love. Three months later, we got married._

_It only took three months._

_Eleven years and seven months, actually. But he was worth the wait._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, there's another (more in-character) version of this where it's Joe who makes the big romantic speech. But I don't know. I wanted it to be a little more equal opportunity than rom-coms often are, where one is clearly in the wrong and so has to make the apology and grand gesture. So I wanted to purposely split those up, which meant when Joe was the one with the Harry part of the sex scene, I had to try to find a way to make it work so he was the one with the Sally part of the declaration scene. Also, a kind of big thing that was driving my characterization of both of them was getting them to be more SINCERE in their feelings and particularly in Nicky's case, EXPRESSING them. Also, dammit, Joe deserves to be wooed too. 
> 
> But anyway. That's it, folks! They lived happily ever after. Next fic in progress is, well, just a lot of smut loosely linked by a theme (doesn't even really qualify as a plot lol).


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